


The Closest Far

by SYNdicate930



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Matchmaking, Confessions, Crack, Crushes, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mark Lee suffers, One Shot Collection, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-02 17:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SYNdicate930/pseuds/SYNdicate930
Summary: In which Johnny and Ten are whipped for one another, but clueless about each other's feelings.As per usual, Mark must suffer for not only their idiocy, but the rest of NCT's inane behavior as well.Chapter 3 - Secret SantaIn which there is a bit of YuWin, a lot of Jaehyun and Yuta being little shits, some "APPLE JUICE", and apparently head.





	1. Anaconda

**Author's Note:**

> Hair colors are from Simon Says era.

**December 1 - 16:33**

“Nah, man.” Johnny has made it a habit of speaking to Mark in English when it comes to topics like this, specifically for conversations that revolve around Ten. Though the others can process English phrases and key words when spoken unnaturally slowed, when spoken offhandedly, with no regard for the non-native English speaking members, Johnny has little fear in humiliating himself in front of everyone. As of lately, he’s only embarrassed himself in front of Mark, whom he regularly confides in. As for Jaehyun and Ten himself, Johnny does his best to avoid enaging in conversations at all in their presence. How dare they also speak English.

“Yeah, man.”

“ _Nah_ , man.”

“ _Yeah_ , man.”

“Like, actually. Nah.”  

“What?” Mark inquires, his voice barely avoiding the last of its pubescent squeaks. His eyebrows raise, disappearing thoroughly beneath his chaotic auburn fringe, genuinely astonished. “What makes you say that?”

Johnny shrugs his shoulders. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“I just get that vibe, you know? I don’t think he’s into me like that.” Johnny, a head taller, a giant by comparison, even when seated on the floor, slouched against the wall, angles himself awkwardly to whisper into Mark’s ear, beckoning him closer with his middle and index fingers. The gesture perplexes Mark. At a distance, any and all secrets are surely be lost to the roaring music of the studio speakers. Nearest to them is Jungwoo, several feet away, his eyes lowered as he thumbs his phone, entirely unaware of their conversation as he demolishes yet another Candy Crush level with a satisfied grin. Mark tilts himself in Johnny direction anyway, who continues, his breath warm against the shell of the his ear. “Besides, I can’t even tell if Ten is… if he’s, you know…”

“Gay?” Mark finishes, prompting Johnny to wrap his hand around the young man’s big mouth.

With dark brown hair pushed back lazily, slicked into place haphazardly by a thin layer of hair product and sweat, Mark thinks, as he pulls away, Johnny has had much better hair days. Not that his hair is of any significance amidst a grueling dance practice.

“Could you be any louder?” Hisses Johnny, thoroughly embarrassed. Mark laughs into the palm of Johnny’s hand before plucking it away by the wrist.

“Yes.” Is Mark’s perky, yet impishly tone-deaf reply.

Johnny’s shoulders raise as he inhales deeply, and then releases, his shoulders sinking to where they belong. “Anyway, back to what I was trying to say, I can’t even figure out if he’s into men at all, so I’m not going to risk it. If I hit him up, and he turns out being straight, I’m screwed.”

“Are you for real?” Johnny raises a brow at his response questioningly, prompting Mark to continue as rearranges himself, crossing his short legs as he passes over his green metallic water bottle. Tilting his head back to take a sip, Johnny listens to Mark. He can feel the ice water pour from his mouth, down his throat, into somewhere indistinguishably deep, somewhere undefinable, somewhere in his lower torso, yet above his abdomen. “You’d have to be blind not to see Ten’s gay. Not to mention stupid to think he’s not into you.”

“Nah, man.” Johny returns the water bottle. He wipes his mouth and the underside of his chin with the back of his hand. Mark elbows Johnny’s forearm.

“Don’t ‘nah, man’ me. It’s getting old.” Johnny returns Mark’s bottle to him, who places it on the ground beside him. “I’m just saying, dude. It’s super obvious he’s into you. Try making a move or something.”

“No.”

“Bro.”

“No way.”

“Just ask him out.”

“And what? Risk making the next few years before our contracts end awkward as hell? No, thanks.”

Johnny doesn’t meet Mark’s eyes, as he occupies himself with watching Taeyong and Yuta glide through choreography step-by-step, smooth wave-like motions connected by masterful slurs of the body, cut by crisp, brisk movements accentuated by electronic bass, bombastic lyrics littered with questionable language, and their equanimous demeanor. Both clad from head to toe in all black, Johnny finds it somewhat difficult to keep track of who is Taeyong and which is Yuta, especially as their moves accelerate and positions begin to flicker back and forth quicker. Swinging his arms, Mark raps along eagerly, throwing up what Johnny assumes to be a mixture of real and fake gang signs, random sign language, and what he easily distinguishes as ‘The Shocker’. Amused, he lets Mark be. Hopefully he remembers that for when he meets a girl he likes.

The song comes to an end, and Yuta shouts happily, proud he made it to the end without any errors. Taeyong pulls off his hat to run his hand through his hair, the bags under his eyes pronounced beneath the unforgiving lights. The two high five each other, Yuta slouched over with a hand on his his knee and his right shoe having somehow undone itself amidst his frenzied dancing. The two congratulate each other happily.

“Nice job.” Taeyong pants.

“We killed it, dude.” Smiles Yuta, the corners of his mouth seemingly reaching his ears.

Instead of looping to the beginning of the song to repeat itself, the space is filled with a boisterous and fiercely unexpected “ _MY ANACONDA DON’T, MY ANACONDA DON’T_ ”, and Mark, Yuta, Taeyong, and the rest of the boys roaring in support, shouting over each other incoherently like a flock of geese as Ten struts into the centre of the open dance studio. In a tight white t-shirt bearing the word “ _YEET_ ” embroidered in gold and deep rogue, tight black yoga pants - ones he had found in the women’s section with Johnny and Doyoung four months prior - and checkered high-top Vans sneakers, he dominates every beat with masterful precision, originality, artistry, and conviction distinctly Ten.

Ten is all lean muscle and confidence, strengthened and seasoned from years of practice and exercise which have forced his body to adjust to the constant application and strain, and his mind to switch the instant the beat drops and eyes fall on him.

It’s as if two souls reside him, Johnny thinks. He’s always thought so. At heart, Ten is as sweet as candy, and glows like a bonfire at sunset, warm, though at times small, a mere ember struggling to tickle and catch the tips of thick firewood, but invariably quick to ignite and flourish into something grander. His inherent buoyancy is greatly reminiscent of kites and balloons; swaying yet steady, at times carried away if left alone with no weight to ground him. Yet, simultaneously, Ten is a force of nature, indescribably exceptional, and incomparable; on stage, Ten never fails to enrapture spectators like a wildfire; magnificent, powerful, inescapably infectious.

It’s this overabundance of charisma and prevailing vigor which structure the foundation of Ten’s persona that Johnny identifies, without hesitation, to be his most potent charm. The disparity at which these two essences dwell, while maintaining an unperturbed equilibrium, make Ten an exemplary illustration of untethered duality.

Positively entranced, he views Ten in awe, who whips his imaginary long hair, vogueing playfully to the beat as the music leads into the chorus before twerking so aggressively, Johnny nearly faints. He feels lightheaded. This is the emergence of Johnny’s demise. Incapable of averting his gaze, he oggles Ten, whose dancing has grown more aggressive and sexual in nature. He places a greater emphasis on his hips, waist and rear to match the lyrics of _Anaconda_ , even going so far as to mouth the words as he - for lack of a better term - slut drops, arms straight and hands held above his head, legs spread for the world, for Johnny.

Ten arches his back, his face unbothered, loving the electricity in the air and deep in his veins.

This spark is felt by Johnny, who propels himself to his feet. He’s broken Ten’s spell, but only momentarily. Johnny stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, allowing them to hang as dead weight, pulling the thick fabric over his groin to conceal the effect Ten has on him.

“Where are you going?” Mark asks, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I need to use the washroom. I’ll be back.” Is Johnny’s panicked response. As he turns for the door, he is caught by the shoulders by Jaehyun, who steers him away. He watches as Yuta drags a chair into the middle of the studio and, in his confusion, allows himself to be shoved onto it by Jaehyun. In his periphery, Johnny notices Doyoung and Lucas raise their cellphones at him. “What the -”

As if to recreate Drake’s famous _Anaconda_ cameo, Johnny finds himself glued to his seat as Ten, from his place against the studio mirrors, turns and drops to all fours. The song has devolved into garish white noise in Johnny’s ears as he gawks at the image of Ten crawling towards him coquettishly. With his back arched, the gleam in his eyes freezes Johnny in place. When he reaches Johnny, Ten, extolled and unabashedly supported by the others, begins twerking against the stunned young man. Ten turns away to position himself as if to sit on his lap, only to begin moving his body in time to music, shaking his rear devastatingly close to Johnny’s groin, the palms of his hands planted firmly on Johnny’s thighs. Ten’s fingers dig into Johnny’s flesh through his shorts. Johnny’s fingers dig into the chair, which he grips for dear life. It takes every ounce of his being to resist lifting his hips to meet Ten’s grinding movements, but even more effort to appear unfazed. He pretends to laugh, but it’s obnoxious and irritates his dried throat.

The music stops, and the following song is drowned out by laughter, praise, and Ten’s unmistakable cackling. Jaehyun and Lucas rush Ten with open, who unintentionally trip the Thai man onto the floor. This escalates as Yuta takes this opportunity to force a dog pile on the floor, Ten laughing uncontrollably from his position at its very bottom. Soon, Taeyong, Sicheng, Taeil, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Haechan join, either voluntarily or by force as they climb and push one another atop the growing mass of limbs and giggles.

Meanwhile, Johnny is still seated. Utterly dumbfounded.

Mark is about to plop himself on top of Haechan, when he notices Johnny.

“Are you okay, bro?”

Johnny straightens himself, hands immediately slipping into his hoodie pockets once more to mask himself. Noticeably stupefied, he says, weakly, before turning on his heel, “I’m fine. I just _really_ need to go to the washroom.”

Mark instantly switches to English, lowering his voice knowingly, “Is it what I think it is? No way. Do you have a bone -”

“Finish that sentence, and I swear to God.” Johnny replies back in English, looking over his shoulder as he reaches for the doorknob. The door clicks softly behind him as it closes.

The dogpile disperses before Mark has the chance to join. The members pull each other from the floor. They pat Ten on the back and laugh together, perpetually bewildered by his seemingly infinite verve and mastery.

“That was awesome.” Doyoung lauds. “As if you really did that.”

“Did what? Twerk, twerk on the floor, or on Johnny?” Counters Jaehyun, causing the members to erupt into an even louder fit of laughter. “Did anyone record Ten twerking on Johnny? My phone died.”

“I did.” Says Doyoung and Lucas in unison.

“Can you send it to me? That was too good.” Everyone begins exchanging videos and photos.

Ten manages to slip away, bumping shoulders with Mark by accident. “Sorry about that!”

“All good. Where are you going?” Mark asks.

“Outside. I really need a breather. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, I promise!” Ten disappears behind the door.

 

** December 1 - 16:48 **

“Where did Ten and Johnny go?” Taeyong looks up to see Doyoung looking around the studio.

“Ten went to get some fresh air and Johnny went to the bathroom.” Mark answers, who approaches the huddled group with a shrug. He misses the suspicious look Taeyong shoots him.

“Are you sure?” Yuta presses, eliciting a giggle from Jungwoo.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Johnny made a run for the bathroom across the hall, Ten went straight for the exit.” Mark chuckles. “I can’t believe that actually happened. _Wow_.”

“I knew Ten couldn’t resist Nikki Minaj.” States Yuta. “He gets so into it when he dances, so I thought I’d see what happens. The chair thing was Jaehyun’s idea, though.”

Jaehyun shrugs in response. “You mean my _good_ idea. Did you see Johnny? He was trying so hard to look like he wasn’t into it.”

“We’ll get him next time.” Yuta says confidently, raising his hand to accept the high five Jaehyun offers.

“It’s kind of frustrating.” Doyoung begins, catching the attention of everyone around him. “I don’t understand those two. How do they manage to be so oblivious to each other’s feelings? It’s almost infuriating, especially when it’s written all over their faces.”

“What do you expect? They’re both dense as hell.” Replies Jaehyun. “They just need a little push here and there.”

“Agreed.” Yuta nods.

“Good. It’s so painfully clear that they like each other.” Says Doyoung. “I could beat some sense into them. Literally.”

“You guys shouldn't meddle.” The group turns their attention to Taeyong, who is adjusting his cap by the visor. As always, Taeyong, naturally, exudes an aura of leadership and unspoken authority, which commands the attention of the young men instantaneously. “Things like confessing should happen naturally. If you force it, you guys might end up pushing them away from each other. Besides, what goes on with Johnny and Ten is no one’s business but theirs - even if it is obvious. It’s not our place to get involved. Especially you, Mark.”

“What? Why me? It’s not my fault that, out of all of us, Johnny talks to me about it the most.” Mark raises his hands as if held at gunpoint. “It’s _also_ not my fault Ten likes to talk to me about Johnny.” The struggle of being so well-liked by everyone is that Mark often finds himself in the middle of things like this. He cannot tell which is more favorable; caught between members feuding, or members hopelessly crushing.

“That’s beside the point. Everyone, please, try to keep out of their business as much as possible.” Taeyong saunters to the speaker to play _BOSS_ . “While those two are out of the studio, let’s continue practice before they get back. Everyone in _Boss_ , please go to your positions.”

Haechan slips away to the side as the remaining members rush into formation. Jaehyun, Yuta, and Doyoung share a quick glance that Taeyong catches. Mark sighs.

 


	2. Sweet Dreams

“What about the Christmas party?” Asks Ten.

“What about it?”

“We should probably head out now -“

“The party can wait a bit.” Johnny pushes him against the wall, kissing him hard while his hands slide form Ten’s thin upper arms to his slim waist, keeping him in place while he forces a leg between the other man’s quivering thighs. Ten moans at the way Johnny’s leg brushes against the front of his pants, but Johnny muffles the sensual noise with his mouth, their lips working in time together.

Fumbling their way from the elevator and down the hall, they somehow make it into the dorm. From here, they move into Johnny’s bedroom, where he shoves Ten onto the bed, and, with a domineering expression, crawls on top of him. They grow hotter by the second, so Johnny tears off his sweater, assisting Ten soon after as he pulls the shorter man’s shirt over his head to reveal a lovely expanse of lovely skin beneath. A tad breathless under the weight of Ten’s gaze, Johnny holds Ten’s wrists together atop his head with a bite of his lip. The red that colors Tens cheeks is almost as bright and discernible as the hickies left along his collarbone and neck, concentrated at the base of his throat to coat his Adam’s apple.

Johnny grins at them - he’s sure they’ll be around for quite some time, but he doesn’t have much time to entertain the thought as he brings himself down to trace over them with his tongue. Shirtless, breathless, with eyes half-lidded and anticipating, Johnny is weak under Ten’s consuming aura, the lewd manner in which he licks his lips, and devastatingly coy stare, which, at a second’s notice, can obliterate all hopes of restraint. Ten lies there blushing as Johnny spreads his legs, forcing his way into the space between his thighs.

“Why so aggressive?” Inquires Ten with a mirthful gaze.

“Just felt like it. Do you not like it?”

“Maybe. Who knows?” His lips are curled unnaturally, as if to contain a smile or raucous fit of laughter - Johnny recognizes this instantly; it’s all in Ten’s eyes. “I can think of dozens of other things I like more.”

“You sure? Because you seem to really like this,“ Ten arches his back as Johnny uses his free hand to keep him still, flicking his tongue and dragging it along his skin in playful, languid motions, lips enclosing around a nipple and giving it a soft bite. He squirms, his hips grinding and bucking themselves upward into Johnny’s, who attempts to regain his rapidly diminishing focus, immersing himself in the rawness of Ten’s moaning and uneven breathing, the ardent gasp as Johnny slides the hand from his stomach to stroke Ten’s erection through his pants.

His reactions are always surprising - not even Johnny would have expected such a sweet boy to turn into _this_ , but he adores it, gets intoxicated off it every single time - as if it were the first. Kissing his way down the thin, heaving torso, he peppers Ten’s flat stomach with nimble pecks as he undoes the front of his pants quickly.

Knowingly, Ten raises his hips and Johnny removes the dark fabric with an overzealous tug. Ten looks at Johnny expectantly, who groans at the steel press of his erection strained against his own jeans. WIth his hands free, Ten peck’s Johnny’s cheek, cupping his face carefully, and then his nose, and, releasing his face to part his messy hair, travels upwards to press his mouth against Johnny’s warm forehead. Johnny looks down at him in flustered surprise, his hands finding their place awkwardly on either side of Ten’s face to balance himself, to put into place a distance he distinctly remembers there being.

“You’re ready to fuck me into dust in the elevator, but the moment we’re alone, you get all shy again,” Ten’s smile is layered thick with a feeling of buoyancy, that, at first, startles Johnny out of his sinful stupor. “You alright there, big boy?”

“Yeah, I just…”

“You just…?”

“Being near you makes me…”

“Hard? Flustered? Horny?”

“Stupid.”

Ten laughs. “I don’t think you need to be near me to be stupid. You do a pretty good job on your own.”

“Shut up.”

 

**December 4 - 4:51**

“No, you shut the fuck up.”

Johnny jolts into consciousness the instant the pillow Mark catapults across the room slams into the side of his face. It requires longer than usual for Johnny to familiarize himself with his environment; the blaring red lines of his clock which read ‘4:51 AM’, his beloved lamp he purchased at IKEA with Jaehyun, Mark’s pillow in striped linen cases surrounding his lithe form at the head of his bed, and Mark’s Biggie Smalls poster. He must have been dreaming.

“What the -”

“Dude, you need to stop watching Netflix before you go to sleep. You always end up sleep talking; it wakes me up every single time.” Mark grumbles tiredly.

“Sorry.”

“No worries just… please. It’s, ilke, five in the morning.”

“I’ll try to stop binging Netflix before bed.” Johnny’s cheeks flush instantly. Thankful for the darkness blurring his features and rapidly diminishing confidence. “Hey, Mark, what was I saying?”

When Johnny looks up, Mark is already curled up in his sheets, only a mess of hair visible through the darkness. “Beg your pardon?”

“What was I talking about in my sleep? Did you hear me really say anything?”

“Hmm…  nothing, really, just kind of mumbling loudly. I woke up, threw my pillow at you, and you pretty much woke up instantly so...”

“Oh, okay.” Johnny sighs in relief, feeling the tension knotting in his broad shoulders tighten before loosening entirely. “Cool, well, sweet dreams.”

“You too, bro.”

 

**December 4 - 9:16**

“Wait, so, tell me one more time.” Says Doyoung, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I think I fell asleep halfway.”  

“Johnny was sleep talking. He was having another wet dream about Ten. I threw my pillow at him but I didn’t say anything when he asked what he was talking about, only that he woke me up.” Mark eats his cereal with his eyes down, stirring his frosted flakes awkwardly as Jaehyun and Yuta snicker from across the kitchen counter. “He had mentioned something about our Christmas party at first, but from there it got… awkward.”

“You’d think he’s a thirteen year old boy with how often this happens.” Replies Doyoung tiredly.

“This happened at almost five in the morning." Continues Mark. "I couldn’t fall back asleep so I just lied there, completely awake. I’ve been up since.”

“That sounds awful. How do you sleep?”

“I don’t.”

The table trembles feebly as Jaehyun and Yuta slam their fists and open palms against its surface, their combined laughter echoing off the kitchen tiles, and wooden flooring of the apartment. When these two meet, there’s no containing them but, individually, Mark finds them easy to manage; strong personalities such as theirs only become further magnified in the presence of those like-minded.

“As if this happened again.” Dropping a sugar cube into his navy coffee cup, Jaehyun stirs the dark liquid with a fascinated glimmer in his stare. With hair spiked up and protruding in all directions, his devastatingly tumultuous bedhead does minimal to obstruct his natural charm and well-balanced features. Yawning, he says, “What is it? Like the second time just this week.”

“Johnny has it bad - _so_ bad.” Yuta takes a bite of his toast, a thick layer of strawberry jam coating the top side. “So, what else did he say?”

“Who did what say?” The inquiry takes Mark by surprise, who nearly drops his bowl onto his lap as he chokes on his frosted flakes. Ten enters the kitchen with his eye half-lidded, still more asleep than awake, his slippers making a bright slapping noise against the floor as he walks towards the table. His voice is raspy and sleepy. He drops into the sit by Mark. Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Yuta look at him expectantly, each attempting to conceal their laughter and amusement; Doyoung looks away, as if to peer out the kitchen window, Jaehyun raises his mug to his lips, and Yuta stuffs the remainder of his toast into his mouth. Ten’s eyes, finally open and adjusted to daylight, stares at Mark curiously. “What did I miss?”

Mark gulps, forcing his cereal down his throat. “Nothing.”

 


	3. Secret Santa

**December 21 - 8:45**

With bated breath, Ten paces back and forth in the elevator, muttering to himself beneath his black facemask. He is bundled up in his favorite knee-length black puffer jacket, a thin white stripe running down the arms from his shoulders, and a small leather backpack hangs off his tense shoulders. Fastened to the zipper of the small pocket on the face of the bag, Ten’s petite keychain of a cup of coffee dangles against a keychain of sushi. They clang against each other playfully, his shoes skid against the elevator floor with each terse step.

Through the elevator windows, Ten watches in his periphery as he ascends from the basement parkade to the first level of the shopping mall. With arms tucked deep into his pockets, his aimless walking in circles is halted by Taeyong. In his oversized winter jacket, Taeyong seemingly drowns beneath the thick padding and faux fur which outlines his lowered hood. “Can you please stop that? Watching you pace around is making me dizzy.”

“Then stop watching me.” At times, Ten’s inherently cheeky demeanor is too quick for him to catch. The response is near-automatic. He bites his lip, surprised at the speed in which he is able to sass someone so early in the morning.

“I would, but there’s not much to focus on while we’re in an elevator.”

“You could stare at Mark.”

Mark looks up from his phone, eyes wide, bearing deep bags beneath them. “Yo, don’t drag me into this.”

Taeyong moves past Ten and Mark as the elevator door slides open. The two follow as Taeyong replies, “I’d stare at Mark, but he’s not super easy on the eyes. Especially when he’s up before noon.”

There is a pause, before Mark’s voice cracks in response, “Hey, wait, I just got that.”

 

**December 21- 9:00**

After first depositing some money at the bank on the first floor, Ten waits outside the men’s bathroom for Mark and Taeyong, seated on a long wooden bench between the entrances of the men’s and women’s bathroom. Across the hall, is the entrance to family bathrooms. Minding his business, Ten observes passersby with no particular interest. He averts his eyes when he feels as though strangers who glance back may recognize him, at which point he pulls out his phone as if to answer a text. Ten would rather spend today as himself, and not an idol to be fawned over. As much as he adores fans, even he cannot be expected to always be excited to see them.

Though an extrovert by nature, with an overt propensity, as well as genuine desire, for fan interactions at shows and events, every so often, especially on days off, Ten wishes greatly to be left alone, to be provided time to recoup. He is not at a show nor at an event; he wishes nothing more than to go unnoticed, though, he finds this becoming less and less feasible at the sight of Yuta dashing towards him from the mall entrance on his left.

In tow, Yuta drags Sicheng by his arm. Behind them, Jaehyun, alone, with his hands in his pockets, walks at a visible distance - but for good reason. The stereotypical, unpredictably chaotic Scorpio that he is, Yuta always manages to attract attention wherever he goes. Still several stores away, he hollers at Ten as Sicheng makes feeble attempts to pry his arm free from Yuta’s vigorous grip.

“Ten, what are you doing here!? Who are you with? Look, Winwin’s here! Doesn’t he look handsome today?” He bellows, now close enough for Ten to hurl his bag at Yuta to silence silence him. Thankfully, the mall has just opened, and only workers on the way to their shifts, elderly couples in passing, and a few mall cops are within proximity witness this peculiar debacle. Yuta and Sicheng reach Ten, followed by Jaehyun shortly after. Yuta readjusts his small backpack on his shoulder as he sits down beside him. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Mark and Taeyong haven’t gone Secret Santa shopping yet, and neither have I, so last night we decided to go together.” Ten responds, watching as Yuta wraps his arms around Sicheng’s waist, trying to pull the young man onto his lap but to no avail. “What about you guys?”

“This mess needs to buy his gift still.” Sicheng answers, slipping out of Yuta’s hold and behind Jaehyun. Turning his attention away from Ten, he lowers his voice at Yuta, “We’re in public. I swear to god, you need to behave.”

“Or else what?” Yuta beams at him.

“Or else I’ll kick your ass back at the dorm.”

“How did you know I like it rough?”  

With crossed arms, Jaehyun clears his throat from behind an oversized scarf draped around his neck, hanging symmetrically over his shoulders. “Unlike these two, I bought my gift four weeks ago. I came because I had nothing better to do.”

“Four weeks ago?” Ten’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Mark and Taeyong exit the bathroom. They exchange greetings with the trio. “Why did you buy a present so early?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry about it. Doyoung, Johnny and I went together in November. Doyoung was especially picky about going as early as possible.”

“It’s better than going shopping four days _before_ the gift exchange.” Cuts in Yuta, who is quickly scolded by Sicheng.

“You aren’t one to talk - you’re stuck buying your gift four days before the Christmas party too, loser.”

“Your loser.”

“Still a stupid loser.”

“Your stupid loser -”

“Okay, we get it, you’re a loser, and you’re whipped as hell for Winwin.” Ten interrupts, standing up and shifting from one foot to the other with a yawn. “Can you two please stop flirting for, like, three seconds?”

There is a pause, before Sicheng’s voice cracks in response, “Hey, wait, I just got that.”

 

**December 21 - 9:36**

“So, who do you have for secret Santa?” Ten prods Mark in line at the food court.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you suck at keeping secrets.”

“Rude.”

“You also haven’t told me yours, so why would I tell you mine?” Next to Mark, Yuta sulks in silence, after having been forcibly separated from Sicheng by Yuta. Knowingly, Taeyong foresaw no viable way for Sicheng to figure out what to buy, and maintain his patience around a particularly hyperactive and clingy Yuta, as well as keep Yuta out of trouble. At least in the absence of Sicheng, the young man can be less unruly to handle.

Mark orders smoothies, double checking with Ten, Jaehyun and Yuta if they would like something as well (they decline), and hands over some change to the food court worker. “I’ll only tell you who mine is, if you tell me who yours is.”

“It’s Johnny.” Yuta mumbles as he texts. Ten spins around to slap his arm.

“Yuta, what the hell.”

“If it makes you feel better, most of us have already told each other by now.”

Mark poke a straw into the lid of his smoothie, and then begin walking. Ten takes a sip, and nudges Mark’s arm. “So now you know it’s Johnny, who do you have?”

“I said if you tell me, not if Yuta tells me. Sorry, dude.”  

 

**December 21 - 10:17**

“So, what are you buying for Johnny?” Ten turns around from a sweater display to glance at Yuta. Besides him, Jaehyun slides his wallet into the front pocket of his bag. Somewhere behind him, Mark is across the store paying for a hoodie. “Do you even have an idea?”

“I - no, not really.”

A perfectionist, this inherent desire to ensure all of which his does is to an immensely ideal degree is unevenly exerted upon mundane aspects of his daily life; meaning, today, includes gift shopping. This is seemingly magnified by the recipient of said gift - Johnny. He needs to find the perfect gift, or the knowledge that he could have done better will haunt him for months.

“You know,” Jaehyun begins. “Johnny’s talked a lot about what he wants.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and specifically what he wants you to give him.” Adds Yuta.

“Me? How does he know I drew his name for Secret Santa?”

“You’re not the best at hiding things.” Jaehyun points out, to which Ten concedes. He’s not wong.

“What did he say he wanted me to give him?”

 

**December 24 - 23:45**

According to Mark, back home in Canada, his family would stay up on December 24th every year to begin exchanging gifts at midnight during the holidays. Wanting an excuse to stay up, and with no schedules or appointments on Christmas Day, the boys gathered in the NCT 127 dorm, clad in pyjamas, wrapped up in blankets, cozy and warm. Pizzas were ordered, bowls of snacks cover the window sill and coffee table, red cups with names written in sharpie litter the space.

The Dreamies have busied themselves with the PS4, huddled together in front of the television chugging Redbull and drinking Coke, as the older members fill up the kitchen and living room behind them. In the kitchen, Mark and Lucas shout a boisterous “ _Apple juice_!” to which the young men tap their glasses against one another and drink. Johnny laughs at the way Ten’s face contorts, seemingly displeased by the pungent flavor.

“This tastes awful.” Ten says, before taking another sip. “God, it tastes worse the more you drink.”

“Wine isn’t normally this bad.” Johnny tells him as he tilts his head back to finish his glass in one large gulp. “I saw Yuta, Jaehyun and Lucas pour some soju into everyone’s glass while we were putting gifts under the tree.”

“Wine mixed with soju? Is that safe?”

“Probably. Just heavily frowned upon.” Doing his rounds with a bottle of wine, Doyoung offers the duo another glass, to which Ten declines. Johnny happily accepts. “You’re not drinking anymore?”

“I think I’m alright.” Replies Ten. He watches, mortified, as Jonny grabs him by the wrist, and Doyoung fills his glass half way.

“ _Now_ you’re alright.”

In the corner of the living sits the Christmas tree, lit up merrily, gifts placed on the floor surrounding it carefully. At some point, Donghyuck has replaced the star at the tip of the Christmas tree with a picture of himself he had printed out last week - none of the members had the heart to take it down. A few seconds before midnight, they count down aloud. “Three… two… one!”

They exchange greetings and hugs, cheering so loudly, Johnny is more than certain they will hear about it tomorrow from their manager. However, at this moment, all consequences are insignificant. Compared to the warmth that buzzes within his chest for being with his bandmates, there is almost nothing that can dampen Johnny’s buoyant mood.  

Putting down their glasses, the boys join the Dreamies in the living room. Everyone finds their place on the living room floor. The gift exchange is underway. As their leader, the members elect Taeyong to distribute gifts. His face is red with an intoxicated flush. Johnny wonders how much he has had to drink.

The exchange is surprisingly organized, given the median level of sobriety. It turns out, though Mark is chaotic under the influence, most others have become tired, with only a few outbursts from a tuckered out Lucas, who is half-asleep in Jungwoo’s arms, Taeil, and Yuta. Johnny thinks the Dreamies have snuck a shot or two of soju into their cups, but he’s not certain. Ten receives, much to his surprise, a back-up bottle of his favorite cologne and limited edition sneakers he had mentioned once offhandedly from Doyoung.

“How did you buy these? The shoes have been sold out since November.” Ten inquires, surprised as he gets up from his spot on the floor to throw his lithe arms around Doyoung.

“I went shopping for your gift early with Jaehyun and Johnny. We waited outside the mall for like two hours for the launch of these.”

“Speaking of Johnny,” Interrupts Taeyong, reaching down to grab a large sized bag by his feet as Ten returns to his seat. “The next gift is for Johnny.”

Taeyong brings the bag to Johnny, who scans the room. In the corner of his eye, he notices Ten raise his hand, and the sight forces the corners of his mouth into a dreamy smile. Ten giggles, proud of his gift, “I really didn’t know what to buy at first, but then I got an idea of what to get you from Jaehyun, and Yuta. I hope you like it.”

“As long as it’s from you, I’ll love it.” Pulling out the colorful tissue paper, with wide eyes, he pulls out a new camera. Before he can straighten to run and give Ten a hug, the young man urges Johnny to continue opening his gift. Shifting his attention to the large bag, Johnny begins laughing, pulling out a dozen of his favorite snacks; his favorite chips, a bottle of his favorite soft drink, some candies, some instant noodles, some gummies from overseas. Suddenly, at the very bottom, Johnny finds a couple of bobble heads, and other small knick knacks of characters with noticeable pronounced heads.

“I knew for sure you’d like the camera and the snacks, but do you like the trinkets? I spent hours at the mall trying to find them.”

“Of course! I really appreciate you buying them for me. A little random, but I’ll put them on my nightstand so I’ll always see them.”

“What a relief! I thought Jaehyun and Yuta were playing a trick on me when they were telling me things to buy you for Christmas.”

The two men in question begin to snicker, at which Johnny tilts his head to, genuinely perplexed. “This was their idea?”

“They said you’d really like if I gave you ‘head’ for Christmas.” Ten answers easily, ‘head’ pronounced in fluent English before continuing in Korean. “I don’t know what that means, but this is pretty close, right?”

Johnny’s mouth drops.

Taeyong slaps his forehead.

The Dreamies murmur to one another in confusion.

The other members look at each other knowingly, as Jaehyun and Yuta cackle loudly into the palms of their hands.

There is a pause, before Mark’s voice cracks in response, “Hey, wait, I just got that.”

 


End file.
